


I'm so tired, Harry.

by CreamcheeseBagel



Series: We languish in the confines of our minds. [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Draco, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Depressed Draco Malfoy, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Established Relationship, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 02:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamcheeseBagel/pseuds/CreamcheeseBagel
Summary: Draco is exhausted, but he's a Malfoy right? A Malfoy does not cry or beg to not wake up, they don't try to fill their lungs with the water of the Thames and sink like a stone.But Draco isn't just a Malfoy; he's a man fighting to feel redeemed among a sea of faces whose forgiveness he craves and fights against.He's so tired of waking up but when Harry Potter extends his hand, he vows to try, and try, and try again.Established relationship. Drarry. Harry does care.





	1. We sink and swim.

**Author's Note:**

> This story will touch on some very dark topics, such as suicide attempts and self harm. Please read at your own discretion, and if you find anything to be triggering it's okay to stop reading.  
> But, Draco is going to get the help he needs. Everyone deserves that much.

Draco accepted the cup of tea and cradled it to his chest, allowing the warmth to envelope him. He almost sighed contentedly at the feeling. In that bubble of bliss, the sudden heat grounded him, and in that moment of overwhelming happiness he felt that he could face the day.  
He watched Harry leave the kitchen in a hurry and the feeling died in his chest suddenly. It was as though a shutter had fallen over his eyes and he had tumbled into the emptiness again. He felt lethargic, his eyes and limbs heavy.  

‘I’m off to work, Draco. Do you think you could get some shopping in?’ Harry called from the lounge, following by a thud. ‘Tripped over the damn coffee table again!’

Draco followed, dragging himself into the spacious lounge. He smiled thinly, hoping it conveyed a feeling he hadn’t truly felt in a long time. Harry scrambled to his feet, flushed. He smiled brightly, adjusting his glasses.

‘Was thinking I could make a vegetarian meal for ‘Mione and Ron or-‘ Draco could feel his head lightly nodding to Harry’s suggestions, the smile plastered on his face as he watched his partners hands gesture widely as though he too was swept up in the conversation. It felt as though there were holes in his brain, and his thoughts would trickle through and his words would get stuck on his tongue. ‘Draco?’

‘Sounds delightfully boring’ Draco quipped, quirking an eyebrow and throwing a glance at Harry over a gulp of tea. Draco waited a moment with bated breath for the feint to be accepted. Harry nodded energetically, threw a thumbs up and darted from the room.

‘Catch you later!’ he called. Draco remained silent, sliding down the wall as soon as the door clicked shut. The sadness was creeping upwards from his toes, curling within his stomach. He could feel the unwanted wave tumbling through him and no amount of positive thinking, or hot tea, was going to keep him afloat. Draco launched the mug across the room. It exploded against the far window as he began to cry. He choked on the sudden sadness, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably. His body shook with the nausea. He felt unmoored from the moment of sanity he had just glimpsed.

_Why am I crying? Why am I crying?_

His fingers wound painfully in his hair as he began to rock with the sobs. His body shook. Draco felt as though his brain were rotting; he could imagine it, the grey mass leaking, dripping his sanity down the drain.  
Draco knocked his head back against the wall and gulped hungrily, screwing his eyes shut.

‘I-I can do this’ he hissed, his voice catching. ‘I’m a fucking Malfoy’ he slammed his head into the wall, hard. The crack of pain awakened him to the room around him, as though he was rising from a deep slumber. Draco’s eyes darted around the room as his chest began to rise and fall more gradually, he blinked in a daze, the tears gone, his face wet. He swiped at his cheeks his shaky hands, and like that he had shut himself off from the dam. ‘Now, we’re going to get up,’ he spoke aloud to himself, urging himself on. Draco clambered to his feet and flicked his ponytail behind him, rolling his shoulders back to stand with the pride he was well known to saunter.

The fireplace roared to life, Draco cast it a scathing glance as Hermione’s small frame clambered out and upwards. He had gone so long without being able to Floo that he had begun to find the transport to be pointlessly unclean and invasive.

Hermione bounced on the soles of her shoes, brushing down her skirt with a small hum.

‘Oh, Draco!’ she squeaked, robotically clamping her arms to her sides. Draco slouched into the wall, his mind telling him to be thankful that Hermione had finally moved on from pumping his hand every time she saw him. But he knew from the lines of the woman’s forehead that this wasn’t a casual run in. ‘I thought you would be at St Mungo’s, with Harry?’

‘Do let yourself in’ Draco retaliated, feeling just as tired as he had half an hour ago. He pushed past his new house guest, but Hermione’s fingers wound around his bicep, almost meeting. He stared blankly down at her. ‘And why, do tell me, have you latched onto me?’  
Hermione rolled her eyes good naturedly. She was no longer scared by the dry blonde. His drunken apology five years ago had softened her to the man, it had also helped that he had fallen down the stairs afterwards and into Ron’s bewildered arms, the embarrassment cementing the trio. Prior to this Hermione had also helped Draco to secure a position within St Mungo’s, but she credited that to the man’s intellect and determination, and preferred to agree that the ice had broken when they clinked shot glasses over wry smiles.  
It had taken Ron the longest to come around to breathing the same air as Draco, but after pulling the bedraggled Slytherin from the Thames, he had slowly found time to truly speak with him and work towards a civil common ground. In fact, Ron had saved Draco on multiple occasions from sudden brutal retaliation acts. However clasping his shaking hands into a fist and slamming air into the man’s lungs had provided Ron with a glimpse of the burden Draco bore, and he would be damned if he was going to let Harry go on living without him.

‘Well, I’m technically here to water the house plants for Harry’ Hermione replied, her lie thick in the air. It was true that Draco was never one to keep the things alive without magical intervention, but Harry had already cast the spells the night before. ‘But maybe you’d like to have tea with me?’

‘I’ve already had one this morning’ he snipped back, silently cleaning the tea from the curtains with a nod of his head. The mug rolled onto the coffee table with a loud clatter.  _And my appointment isn’t for another week, you pushy hag._

‘I was thinking we could go for a coffee then-‘

Draco tore his arm free, his head swimming. ‘Get off me’ he snarled, turning on her. Hermione shrunk back, her chin pointed defiantly. ‘You’re here to water the plants, not climb inside my arsehole’

‘Vulgar’

‘Can you not get the point I am trying to make?’ Draco rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Fucking Gryffindor’s. You’re here for a whole five seconds and you want to catch up, and I  _do not_ want to talk to  _you_ ’.  
Draco’s ugly pride clawed up his throat in jagged points. He knew he shouldn’t speak to Hermione like this, wouldn’t anymore, but he needed her to go. Draco needed to be alone.  
Hermione huffed and stalked from the room, stomping upstairs to water the plants, and continue her charade, with a twirl of her cardigan.

 Draco slammed his mouth shut against an apology.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Draco sat cross-legged in a guest room, his sleeves rolled up and elbows on knees. He stared intently at the blank wall before him remembering how Harry had once extended his hand to a bed bound Draco and lightly shook it, promising him that if he could stand on his own two feet, anyone could with the right help. Draco had found it almost ironic to be hospitalised upon the ward he worked, harpooned by his failing mental health and another sadistic attack.

‘And here we are again’ he breathed, outstretching his left arm and violently flicking his wand. He had promised himself that this would be the last time as a deep streak of crimson tore up the whites of his left arm. He hissed as an ebb of calm flowed through him. His Dark Mark had now long faded into light scarring that could only be seen in intense lighting, but that hadn’t meant he hadn’t previously spent years trying to scrub the black lines from his arm.  
He flicked his hand upwards, nonchalant, and his skin tore from the crook of his elbow to half way down his inner arm. Close enough to scare him but far enough away that he wouldn’t bleed out. The bubble of bliss popped and Draco stared down at his arm in horror and frustration.  _How could I? Harry?  
_ He kicked the wall accidentally as he jumped to his feet, wand clattering to the floorboards as his right hand clamped down on as much arm as possible.

‘Shit!’ he hissed, reality over-coming him. The wound was a clean cleave, deeper than intended. He was meant to have gone and bought food for the house, not ruin the floorboards of Harry’s home. He should be at work on the ward, not taking a forced holiday to take care of himself.

 The blood ran quickly beneath his hand, trailing down the arm he held skyward, as he frantically attemptied to stem the flow. The wound was magically inflicted, a spell of Draco’s own design, one not easily remedied.

Draco tripped on his feet as he fled from the room, he steadied himself on the far wall of the hallway, a bloody handprint streaked behind him. He shoved himself off the wall and ran for the guest bathroom at the end of the hall.  
His right hand was slick against the door handle. The panic was squeezing his lungs. If Harry didn’t kill him, Mrs Bradding surely would.  
‘Alohomora!’ he shouted, stumbling into the tiled room as the door sprung open, wandlessly. Draco crashed into the bath mat, snatching a thick towel on his way down. He’d have to do this the muggle way; how fitting he had made his punishment all those years ago.

Draco bundled his arm into the towel and balanced it against the lip of the bath tub before him, resting his face into the towel. He was bone tired and his arm ached something chronic. The lull of sleep came suddenly, more inviting than the sadness that morning. He leant into the motion of falling and closed his eyes to the soft spiral of sleep. _This must be how my patients feel._  
Draco sighed contently, his legs going limp beneath him. He could feel the last pull of sleep, like an anchor around his neck, he plunged hard.


	2. Talk some more.

 

‘I’m so tired, Harry’ Draco croaked from beneath his duvet and blankets. He shuffled further into the pillows of the shared bed.

Harry glared daggers at his partner from the edge of the bed he was perched on. ‘You seemed fine this morning! How could you?’ he shouted, fisting his hands in his lap. ‘I swear, Malfoy, if you don’t talk to me I’ll have no choice but to drag you to St Mungo’s myself. Bradding’s would have a right field day!’

Draco flinched from his surname. The pair never slung surnames around unless it was a serious argument, something that really got under their skin. The barbed use drudging up small fragments of former anger and resentment.  
‘I just feel exhausted’ Draco admitted, turning his face into the pillow. ‘I feel so  _empty_. And when I  _can_ feel, I’m just so heavy and tired’ he sighed, shielding his sight from Harry’s wild eyes.

‘You’re depressed, Draco! Just admit it,’ Harry snapped back, punching a knee, his heart pounding. Why couldn't he just admit it? ‘Talk to me for once, okay. We went through years of being honest, and all that screaming and well, being honest. You can’t shut me out now, I won’t let you, Draco.’

‘Won’t let me?’ Draco shot back venomously, sitting up in the bed, keeping his bandaged arm beneath the covers.  _How dare you._

‘I  _cannot_ help you if you can’t even help yourself!’ Harry shouted, his cheeks aflame. His anger getting the better of him once again. ‘You’re such a brat, Draco. You take a week off work, lying to me that it’s a small break. I know Bradding made you take it! I’m not an idiot. When really- you’re holed up at home trying to- kill yourself-’

Draco narrowed his eyes, bunching his right hand in the covers. ‘Get out!’

‘No!’ Harry gasped, insulted. His stomach lurched, a stab of guilt tumbling amongst the anger. He stood still, matching Draco’s own expression. ‘You can’t even admit that you need help- well, what are you sad about?’

Draco shrugged, biting his cheek against the smirk. ‘I don’t know, okay, I just am’.  _I feel so guilty, Harry._

‘See! ‘Harry pointed at Draco, jabbing his finger in the air. ‘You know what. I’m an idiot,’ Harry laughed, and Draco snorted. ‘I let you- talk me into not getting you help at St Mungo’s, and I also thought I’d give you some space and let you come to me. But, instead I have Hermione pulling her hair out downstairs, brewing you blood thickening potions whilst Ron is holding Molly off from swooping in here and beating you to death herself! It’s not just me that actually gives a damn about you, you know that right? You’re so wrapped up in self-pity that you can’t even see that the world is moving on around you,’ Harry exhaled hard, his nostrils flaring.  
‘I got help!,’ Harry continued, his chest rising and falling rapidly. ‘Ron got help. Hermione even got help, and she’s probably the most stubborn! We could all admit that life sucked. But you know what we did? We got the fuck up out of bed and did something about it. We’re lucky to be alive, not everyone got that chance and-‘  _I know!_

‘Stop it’ Draco pleaded softly, wishing for Harry to go away. ‘You can’t use that against me-‘ 

‘ _Use that against you_?’ Harry’s voice hit the note that meant he wasn’t backing down anytime soon. As stubborn as he had been when he was eleven. ‘I have tried, Draco. I really have. Now it’s your turn. Fuck this, I'm going,’ he said, a note of finality in his sentence. He moved away from the bed, the pleading grey eyes, and stormed from the room, the bed shaking as the door banged shut. Draco heard him crash down the stairs, shrugging off Hermione's concern.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Draco shuffled around 12 Grimmauld Place like a zombie in the absence of Harry, who stubbornly refused to be in the same room as Draco without staring holes into his left arm. It had felt like he was on house arrest, or like he was eleven again, and not twenty eight, and Harry was turning his nose up at him.   
Harry had left for the burrow the night after the attempt, the night of the argument, telling Draco he needed space to think, but Draco was never truly alone in the empty house.  
Ron and Hermione dropped by to chat with him; and Luna floated in and out with herbal teas and soft hugs for the trio, her longer hugs having been saved for Draco when the pair curled up on the sofa like a pair of fat cats.  
The three momentarily filled the void, but it was the quiet nights that haunted Draco. He tossed and turned in the large bed, unable to sleep. Too afraid to take a swig of his specially brewed potions, his mind itching to return to work but too drained to move.

It was on the fourth day that Ginny brazenly strode through the front door. Draco was absentmindedly crunching his toast when the kitchen door swung open, bouncing off the already damaged wall.

‘I’m sick of Harry haunting the burrow!' Ginny shouted, swiping the toast from Draco’s hand and finishing it in two massive bites. ‘It’s like being at Hogwarts again! He doesn’t shut up about you,’ she continued, staring hard and accusingly at Draco’s wide eyed stare.

Draco recovered quickly, schooling his face. He felt as though he'd never get used to Harry's friends barging into his life, taking up the room and distracting him. ‘Do all the women in Harry’s life just barge in whenever they feel like it?’

‘Only the best ones,’ Ginny replied coolly with wink. She slid into the opposite chair and smiled gently. It was a genuine smile from Ginny who had once been another tough nut to crack. It had taken years for her to stop wanting to strangle Draco and bury him in the back garden, but she softened when her brother had cried for the former bully. They were never especially close, Draco and Ginny, but she appreciated his dry wit and skill on a broom. She also loved teasing him about the latter, watching wickedly as his cheeks would flush pink.  
Truthfully, she also enjoyed seeing the spark of life he had injected into Harry. The man had unwound around Draco, his anger management falling into place as he unexpectedly opened his heart. Ginny had once been bitter and resentful, poisonous to the Slytherin who had been a catalyst for so much pain, but she too couldn’t and wouldn’t live in the past, skulking and afraid.

‘How are you feeling?’

Draco went to shrug but caught himself. ‘Uncomfortably normal,’ he admitted, brushing the crumbs from his fingers. ‘Although I didn’t go to St Mungo’s the first night, Harry dragged me up there in the morning…before the argument. I’ve been given a serotonin upper potion, tastes like shit but I’m not blowing bubbles in the kitchen sink so it’s a small price to pay…’

Ginny nodded knowingly, a lot of people had needed help after the war. An influx of mental health teams were called in from all over the world to battle the crisis unfolding before their eyes. Hundreds of dedicated witches and wizards, from an array of medical fields, swooped into Britain to save those from both sides of the war. Molly herself had needed a little extra help finding her feet, something Ron and Ginny were always quietly thankful for.  
The current medicinal liquid he was scheduled to take every morning kept Draco afloat the few days he had been swigging it. The irritability had dulled considerably and his stomach rumbled more.

‘It’ll still be a while until it really kicks in’ Ginny replied, kindly. ‘But if it’s helping already, that’s a good sign. And you know he doesn’t hate you, right?’

‘He hasn’t exactly played hero either’ Draco scowled.

‘He’s- just angry. He loves you a lot, okay. And it’s really hard to not be angry when someone you love is purposely choosing to not get better’.

‘I just-it’s just so hard, Ginny,’ Draco sighed, his shoulders slumping. ‘Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, I’ll never be normal-’

‘First of all, we’re going to stop throwing around the word  _normal_ ’ she quipped, making hands around the word. ‘It’s a stupid word. Okay. You’re you, and right now you’re having a hard time. You’ve slipped backwards a little bit. But that’s okay, because you’ve got a safety net. And Harry is currently at mine beating himself up about leaving you, and shouting, and well- being an idiot really. But that’s Harry, he can’t help his IQ’  
Draco’s lips twitched at the joke. His guest was really pulling out the big guns.

‘Just demand that I have to come with you already,’ Draco sighed, crossing his arms and smirking. Ginny slammed her hands against the table.

‘Draco Malfoy, you’re coming with me!’ 

Draco raised his hands as though admitting to a crime, and allowed Ginny to guide him from the house with her arm hooked in his own. She took his right and chatted as though that's all she could do as the pair prepared to Apparate.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco’s fingertips slid up and down the shaft of the broom, gently circling the polished wood. He hunched over and stepped out of the haphazard broom shed and into the dusty garden turned makeshift quidditch pitch. He inhaled the fresh air and tilted his face to the sun, basking in the warmth. Draco secretly enjoyed visiting The Burrow, in all its ramshackle glory. It was like something from a children’s book; a house that twisted and turned upwards, unordinary and loveable, with patches of new life breathed in, like an old pair of shoes you just couldn’t throw out.

Harry threw his hand to the air, a full armed wave as he sped towards Draco, looking tired and a shade guilty. His hair was tousled, his jumper backwards as though just pulled on. 

‘You came,’ he exclaimed, halting before Draco, his green eyes hard.

‘Who else could possibly be this depressed _and_ well dressed'

‘Draco-I’m sorry, for leaving,’ Harry muttered, scuffing his trainer into the ground like a child. ‘I shouldn’t have said the things I did and then just left you. I think I forgot that I'd dealt with this kinda thing years ago, and that not everyone had. I kinda bulldozed into mine and well, it wasn’t fair of me to be so harsh. You haven't processed things like I have. I mean, we treat patients pretty much every day for Christ's sake, and there I was shouting at you when you needed me the most and-‘

‘Harry,’ Draco interrupted, taking the man’s wrist in his left hand, tracing small circles into the bruised knuckles. ‘I am one of the worst people when it comes to admitting I’m not okay, or wrong for that matter,’ Harry lent in close, a small hopeful smile on his lips. ‘Not everything you said was wrong. Now don’t get the wrong idea and think  _you’re_ right all of a sudden. But it is about time, I stop wallowing in self-pity and did something’. Harry frowned. ‘Not a jab. It’s just over these past few days, I’ve been in a whirl of mind altering potions, and your friend’s awful conversation topics, and not washing my hair is barbaric. Plus, if I had a patient like me, I’d do everything in my power to get them help ’.

Harry pulled Draco into a gently hug, the man’s frame slight and sharp against his own.

‘Ginny told me she caught you eating toast,’ he whispered into Draco’s lavender infused hair.

‘I’ve decided I quite like toast, and that muggle contraception is so much easier than waving your arms about all the time’.

‘Can we go inside and talk?’ Harry pleaded.

Draco clucked his tongue loudly, hitting Harry in the back with the broomstick. ‘Catch the snitch and I’ll tell you about how Luna made me laugh until I cried’.

Harry gasped, a glow erupting in his chest, thankful Draco had softened enough through the years to be able to not only apologise, but to accept Harry in all his own faults. ‘I know,’ Draco whispered into Harry’s ear, his breath warm, ‘she’s disgustingly good company’.

 


	3. We survived a month.

Draco floated around the lounge, his bare feet gliding across the naked floorboards, his head a heavy swirl as he shut his eyes to the emptiness surrounding him. His eyes rolled slowly behind his eyelids, his head lolling. He moved against the world spinning beneath him, his stomach a turbulent roll of firewhiskey and vodka. An eclectic pair he had gratefully swallowed to not feel like himself. He had reasoned, against his better judgement, that this was better than feeling like Draco Malfoy.  
Draco threw his arms upwards, above his head and swayed violently to the rhythm inside his head. Slowly opening his eyes, mouth ajar, he wiggled his fingers to watch fascinated as his tendons wiggled and popped beneath the skin.  
Sometimes Draco couldn’t quite believe he was still alive. A sick bubble of shame burst within his chest, inhaling sharply, Draco’s ankles crashed together. A bubble of laughter escaped his lips as his world lurched. He clattered backwards, hard, arms wide. His head crashed heavily against the wood.. Draco dragged his hands down his face with an exaggerated sigh, his moment of bliss escaping him, his stomach twisting. A dark thought twisted inside his brain, whispering that he should have died a month ago, pressed over the bath tub to bleed dry, a Slytherin painted red.

‘Accio-wand’ he slurred, his fingers ensnaring the wand as it rolled into his left hand from beneath the single wing backed sofa across the room. His choice of furnishing, not Harry’s.  
Closing his eyes he shakily jabbed the wand to his throat, his neck, his forehead. ‘Av-av-,‘ his mind rolled with his stomach, the pair tumbling with each staggered breath. Draco blinked slowly, snapping his eyes open, staring at the glass chandelier above him.  
His wand wouldn’t have even allowed his to fire the curse if he begged. With a guttural groan he tossed the wand away. He’d had a month of counselling, of forcing himself to go walking and eating, but it unravelled at night when he was alone. Harry was on his third night shift and Mrs Bradding had begun to question when Draco would return to her tribe of medics.  
He allowed his mind to wander to warmer times, of blonde hair brushing against his chin, of squeezed hugs and his own reluctant laughs. He inhaled the sweet scent of his childhood and his mind called out a lazy apology. His lips mouthed the words; to Harry, to Luna, to his Mother.

The air grew warm, a static buzz filling the room. A plant pot exploded somewhere far off, the clay echoing like a small blast within the gloom of the 12 Grimmauld Place, greeting Draco as an insignificant muffle.  
Draco clawed himself to sit and tore himself into a crouch. His arms wobbled, his mouth clamping against the lump in his throat. He crawled to the sofa, vaguely smirking at the notion he must have looked like a dishevelled dog. How the mighty Slytherin Prince had aged; ten years ago this mix of alcohol would have had Draco dancing on a table and flirting wildly.

Draco stopped only when his forehead bumped the mahogany decal and nursed his head against the seat, like a child falling into a parents embrace.  
His slender arms encircled the sofa leg, he blinked owlishly as his sleeves slipped away, the left snagging and unpeeling. Draco winced through his teeth, the sight dropping his stomach to his toes, a sobering wave of disgust. The red scoured his brain. It was never enough.

Luna suddenly appeared in a swirl of scarves, her hair floating around her. Her wide blue eyes were alert and fixed on Draco within the darkness. Her hands swaddled in mittens already stretching out towards the man.

‘It’s a wonder I can see you,’ Luna announced, crouching before Draco, her hands firmly pulling him to sit slumped. She blinked twice and the lights in the room twinkled into life. ‘Didn’t you threaten to put the wards back up?' She continued, a small smile greeting Draco. He drunk the smile in, he drunk Luna in. Her small hands were firm on his shoulders, her eyes clear. Within the fog Draco watched Luna twirling his wand, a slender hand waving the wood in delicate spirals.

‘Don’t,’ Draco snapped. The moment was gone as the steel settled in the pit of his stomach. ‘Do not call  _him_ ’.

‘You made a promise last time that you’d contact Harry if you-‘

‘I’ll see him in the morning!’ Draco growled, ripping himself from Lunas hold. He clambered backwards, his back striking the sofa. He buried his numbing face into a cushion. ‘He’s only on a night shift,’ he mumbled.

Luna ignored the sulking, drunken Slytherin, her wand tapping the back of her thigh gently. A silvery wisp coiled and fled through the fire place. Draco sighed heavily.

‘A month ago I was telling him how hard you made me laugh. He beat me to the snitch, of course. And-I really tried to get bette,r’ Draco slurred, his words becoming clearer as Luna’s wand twirled before his face, her spell floating around him. ‘How did you know I needed someone?’

Luna tapped her chin thoughtfully with her wand, tilting her head. ‘I believe I was going for a walk when you suddenly floated into my head. A little voice told me you needed a hug’

Draco rolled his eyes hard, careful to not let his companion see. ‘You’ve done a remarkable job of ruining my hangover, Luna.’

‘It is a very convenient spell, is it not?’ she continued, gently helping Draco onto the sofa. She clambered on beside him, throwing her legs over his lap and nestling into his shoulder. An uncomfortable position only she could find comfortable. Draco closed his eyes and breathed in her scent.  
The fireplace crackled and Luna cheerily greeted Harry as he rolled into the room, his glasses hanging from an ear.

‘Draco?’ he immediately questioned. Draco raised his head lazily, swallowing the lump in his throat.

‘I don’t think I’m oka,y’ Draco chuckled, raking a hand down his face. ‘What’s wrong with me?’

Harry threw himself onto the pair, squishing the blondes into the sofa. Luna giggled as strong arms pulled her closer.

‘You’re an idiot who thinks drinking away his problems is going to help’, Harry breathed into his ear, Luna’s breath hot on his other. ‘It doesn’t mix well with the potions, you know this. Oh, and you're really missed at work!’ Harry scolded, pulling Draco from the sofa and into a tight hug. Luna watched the pair, smiling in earnest. She had discreetly placed an intricate spell upon the home when Draco had come close to succeeding a month ago, as told by a frantic Hermione, warning her about any magical attempt whether uttered or not. She didn’t quite know what to do if Draco descended further and tried a more muggle avenue, but in that hug she believed that Draco could get better, would get better, in time.

Draco pulled back from the hug, his fingers curled around Harry’s biceps, taking in his damp robes. He raised an enquiring brow.

‘Child puked all over me. Think he was excited to meet his hero.’

‘Harry, I relapsed’ Draco admitted stoically, tensing his jaw, cutting through the humour. ‘Can we talk?’ he asked, digging his fingers into the fabric and meeting Harry's tired eyes.

Luna blinked slowly at Harry, her eyes warm and understanding, she vanished with a small pop.

‘Did Luna stop you from-anything?’

‘Can we discuss this upstairs? You reek’

Harry stifled a yawn and nodded bleary eyed. He knew Draco would talk on his terms, with a gentle nudge.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

‘A month ago you could barely admit to being depressed, Draco. You’ve come a long way,’ Harry mused, curling into Draco’s chest. Draco hummed beneath him. ‘It takes time to get better. It’s not going to go away in a month’.

Draco wound his hands through the iron bars of the headboard. ‘Technically, I’ve been this way for a while. And I’ve felt so nervous and overwhelmed with work…’

‘We don’t need the money, Draco’ Harry muttered, his words laced with sleep.

‘And I still feel so damn guilty!’

‘You need to forgive yourself,’ Harry yawned, nestling further into Draco’s bare chest, his fingers etching the scars he had placed upon the skin. ‘ _You_ forgave me. Remember’ he smacked his lips, ‘the night you fell down the stairs’. Draco turned his face away, embarrassed, he’d been so vulnerable, so drunk and desperate to get Harry’s attention he had all but cried as he shouted at him. Hermione’s apology came hours later, as the inky sky blossomed into pink. He’d apologised a lot when sober too, begging Harry to hate him again because he couldn’t deal with the confusion. Demanded that they stop being friends, stopped helping each other at work and went back to before.  
It had been weeks after his drunken outbursts that he’d taken a nose dive into the choppy waters of the Thames. The ginger git had dived in soon after, Draco reminisced, luckily having been hunting for muggle pottery on the muddy banks with his Father. Sometimes he wondered if the universe were telling him to live.

‘Harry, I need to go to St Mungo’s tomorrow. Sort out the dosage. I'm having ridiculous thoughts again. I think I’ll also talk to Mrs Bradding about reduced hours, and going back sooner rather than later.’

Harry grunted back, patting the pale chest beneath him. ‘I keep bouncing from happy to sad. It’s not fair that your friends have to rush in to save me, time and time again,’ Draco murmured.  _I go from trying to kill myself to cuddling you._

‘Draco,’ Harry yawned heavily. ‘You’re in a bad place still. Toast in morning, then mmmungo’s.’ He squeezed Draco tight. ‘I’ll save you each and every time you need it. I promise. It’s in the job description…’

Draco gently rubbed his chin into Harry’s messy hair.  _I love you, you idiot._


	4. Under you.

‘That bad huh?’ Harry questioned through a mouthful of chips. Draco plucked a stray from the plate before him and popped it into his mouth, raising a brow in response. ‘You know-‘ Harry swallowed loudly, his eyes wandering around the quaint muggle café they lounged outside. ‘You’ve been in my life since I was like twelve…I’d miss you’

Draco looked past Harry, over his shoulder and into the cobblestone alley they sat. The alleyway was beautifully decorated with sprawling house plants from the balconies and alcoves above. It was a quiet hide away from the busy London streets a stone’s throw away, and more welcoming that its wizarding cousin.   
‘It was a hard session,’ Draco admitted with a long sigh, running a hand through his platinum locks. ‘Two hours to dredge up all the bad in my brain…and now it’s just stuck’ he tapped his head.

‘Sounds like it helped though’

Draco nodded, throwing a chip back onto Harry’s plate. ‘You know what will help me right now?’ he purred, eyes flashing. ‘You spreading my cheeks and-‘

‘Woah!’ Harry yelped, a chip falling into his lap. ‘Not in public, Draco’.

The blonde smirked as he stood, scrapping his chair backwards. He extended a palm mockingly.

‘I can’t _apparate_ in public,’ Harry whispered, getting to his feet. Draco’s grin grew.

‘If anyone asks, you’ll say it was an emergency’

 

* * *

 

Harry flopped backwards on the bed, leaning up on his elbows to watch Draco in the doorway. ‘Are you sure you want this?’ he questioned, his growing erection clear against his jeans.

Draco rolled his eyes as he gracefully slunk to his knees. ‘Yes, Harry. For the fifth time now’. He began to crawl, his tailored trousers pulled tight. ‘I want you to help me feel _good_ ’ he purred, climbing onto the mattress, straddling Harry, his fingers creating patterns in the man’s thighs.

‘Are you really sure?’

‘I have a new prescription, and counselling. I’m sociable’ Draco snapped, his fingers curling. ‘Now either _fuck_ me, and make me feel good, or _fuck_ off!’

Harry’s eyes flashed and the room rung out with the resounding smack. ‘Malfoy’ he warned, watching Draco’s face flush, his pupils blown wide, as his head snapped to the left. Draco came up panting, his expression wrapt with pure need. He melted forwards, another blow pushing him backwards.

‘Yes,’ Draco hummed, his cheeks ablaze with tingles. He ground himself upon Harry. ‘Fuck. Yes. Harry’

Harry grinned wolfishly, clamping his thighs around Draco to spin them both. They tumbled, Draco squirming to position himself comfortably beneath his partner. They shared a breathless stare, their dirty thoughts entwining. Harry snaked a hand around Draco’s slender throat, his fingers squeezing.

‘Y-yes,’ Draco pleaded as his clothes shimmered from his body, his hands wandlessly pulling Harry free from his scratchy jumper. He laughed gently as Harry nipped his neck, his own jeans disappearing to grind his erection down upon Draco’s. They ground their hips, rutting among breathless pants, Harry’s teeth biting and his lips sucking. Draco’s neck flushed and ached against the growing bruises, his thoughts tumbling within the fog of arousal.   
Harry’s tongue licked slowly up Draco’s neck, his teeth capturing the earlobe as he slowly sunk inside Draco. A wordless charm had prepared the pair, but he eased his girth in slowly, until the head popped and Draco groaned with a shudder.

‘Slut!’ Harry hissed, choking Draco beneath his hand, his other curled into his hip. He sunk his teeth into the delicate flesh of the skin that met the shoulder and pumped himself vigorously. Draco mewled beneath him, strangled and flush. His throaty groans raspy and painful, his spasms electric as Harry pulled his face away to spit in his open mouth. The hot saliva surprised Draco, he opened his eyes to watch his lover as he made himself swallow it dutifully before crashing his lips against Harry’s, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling.

The crescendo of moans and sweat increased around them, the sheets hot and sticky, the air heavy with their smell. Harry could feel the pull as he filled, the thrum and throb of his orgasm begging to be released. Draco’s half lidded eyes opened beneath him, his pale hands gently removing Harry’s from his throat so that he could entwine their fingers. Harry thrust harder until Draco’s eyes screwed shut, his mouth parted.

‘Fuck!’ Harry shouted, his toes curling as he tore his hand free and pulled Draco’s long legs over his shoulders, burying himself further. Draco squirmed, his guttural moans growing higher. Harry bent over, folding Draco beneath him as he thundered into him, pulling himself out to slam himself in, harder, quicker.

‘P-please…’ Draco cried as Harry mercilessly slammed again, the roll of his orgasm momentarily blinded him. Draco screamed beneath him, spraying his chin in hot bursts as Harry slowly rocked the last of his orgasm into Draco's tight arse.

Harry pulled out slowly with a satisfying pop, his erection still hot and red against his stomach. Draco lowered his legs, his chest a sticky picture. They shared a bemused smile.

‘If only I could bottle _that_ ’ Draco announced as he tugged Harry beside him. They stared at the ceiling together, Harry wiping the sweat from his brow. ‘I- I think I’m going to be okay’ he announced quietly after a few moments, riding the euphoria buzzing around his brain.

Harry closed his eyes slowly, the drift of sleep calling him. ‘I know you will,’ he breathed, ‘and I’ll support you every day I can’

‘Even on my bad days?’

‘Especially on your bad days’ Harry uttered, sweeping Draco’s hand into his. ‘We all deserve a second chance’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've finally wrapped up my little story. But I've decided this is going to be apart of a series following Draco and Harry, and how the pair adjust and survive the hardships of their lives together.
> 
> Thank you for reading and please don't be shy about leaving a comment, especially if you have a little itch you would like me to write into one shot or include in the upcoming series.


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